


you disappoint me.

by atlesianic



Category: RWBY
Genre: Amputation, Dark Magic, Grimm - Freeform, Healing, Punishment, Rewrite, tyrian gets his tail fixed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23479879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlesianic/pseuds/atlesianic
Summary: words cut worse than any knife in existence. he begs, pleads, and promises, and she finally decides to fix him.an old work i'm still proud of. find a rewrite in the second chapter (eventually).I DO NOT CONSENT TO THE REPOSTING OF MY WORKS.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	you disappoint me.

**Author's Note:**

> still moving to the new account!!

"PLEASE, MY LADY!"

The sounds echoes down the cavernous halls of the fortress. Cinder no doubt has suffered a day-long headache because of the screaming. Tears begin to pool at Tyrian's feet, his nails bleeding and raw from clawing at the enormous door that leads to Salem's chambers. They splinter and break, purple running down Tyrian's arms. He sobs again, slamming his hands against the door.

"PLEASE! I'M SO SORRY!" he shrieks. "I TRIED! I DID WHAT I COULD! I--!"

The door flings open and Tyrian flies backward, scrambling to sit up again. Salem stands before him, fury etched on her enchanting face. Without a word, she moves forward.

"M-my lady, p-please, you must forgive--!" He doesn't get a chance to finish, as Salem's clawed nails dig into his scalp and drag him along behind her by his hair.

He gasps and sobs, writhes in pain and tries desperately to keep up with her. Everything hurts and struggling to wrench her hand from his hair only makes his fingers bleed more. He's dizzy from hyperventilating, sick to his stomach from crying, and fear creeps along his wounded spine as she drags him further toward the entrance of the fortress.

The doors fling open without her needing to touch them. Grimm crawl to her side, some bowing and others nipping at Tyrian. He doesn't try to stop them. There's no point.

Salem continues to wordlessly drag him along the rocky ground, ignoring his whimpers and sobs and pleas. With a gentle grunt, she snatches his braid up in her hands and thrusts him forward. He screams when he realizes where he is and what she's doing.

He's hovering over a pool of shining black sludge, held only by his hair and secured only by Salem's good graces.

"Please--oh, God, please, NO!" he begs, reaching up to try and alleviate the pain. His feet are dangerously close to the edge, barely keeping him safe from the pools oily blackness.

"You have failed me, Tyrian," she snarls, her eyes glowing with rage. "You failed a simple task and you dared to return to me empty-handed!" She shakes him, drawing a scream from him once more. "But I am a merciful goddess."

"Yes, yes, please," he babbles. Tyrian's hands clasp in front of him, as if praying. "Please, my benevolent goddess, please, forgive me--"

Without warning, Salem releases him, only to grab his tail before he can fall into the sludge. Her claws sink into the armored plates, blood oozing from the flesh beneath. Tyrian screams in pain and tries so hard to keep himself from falling into the pool below him. Tears drip from his chin, making the sludge bubble and hiss when they hit the surface.

"You are a disgrace," Salem states. "and you do not deserve the gift I am giving you."

"My lady--"

He screams louder than he ever has in his life. His tail is torn from his spine, fire invading every nerve, cell, and thought. The pure agony is enough to draw a slowly gathering swarm of Grimm to the two of them, an audience ready to watch Tyrian's suffering. In the split second of furious pain, Tyrian forgets his location.

He plunges head-first into the black goo beneath him.

He gasps for air but the sludge is the only thing that fills his lungs. He flails about in the thick substance, grasping the rocky land just beyond hope. He doesn't seem to mind when his fingernails snap off and crumble at Salem's feet. He looks up for a brief moment and sees her smile.

This is his gift.

Tyrian's grip fails him and he sinks into the sludge. It seems to seek out every orifice it can, filling his eyes and his nose and his mouth. He can feel it in his eye sockets, filling his throat and his lungs and his stomach. He wants to give up, wants to let it end here, but if he does then he'll fail her for the last time. This is his gift, and he must accept it.

Despite the pain and the burning in his chest from the lack of air, Tyrian's hand shoots from the sludge and lands on the ground. His veins feel like they're on fire, like they're pulsating with the ooze invading his body. He starts to slide back into the pool, no nails to help anchor him, but suddenly his hand sinks into the rocks beneath it. He begins to pull himself out, slowly but surely. He's amazed for find a set of bone-white claws extending from his fingertips.

He digs the claws of his other hand into the earth and drags himself out of the pool. He gasps for air, coughs and hacks and tries to get the ooze out of him--but it never comes.

Pain, once numbed, suddenly returns tenfold. He shrieks in agony again, his back arching. He can feel bones snapping and twisting, nerves rearranging themselves. The bleeding stump where his tail once resided begins to twitch, throb, pulsate with an unseen power. He dares to look over his shoulder, finding Salem smiling down at him and something beginning to grow from the base of his spine.

Tyrian screams again and buries his face in the dirt. Black ooze begins to climb from the wounded stump, solidifying and thickening as it climbs ever higher over his head. He gasps and pants and screams and begs for mercy (this is your gift) to be given (accept it) but Salem never responds. Bones begins to protrude from the raw black flesh, cracking and snapping as they mold over the stem of Tyrian's gift. His screams finally halt, but only because his voice has given out.

The end of his new tail begins to bubble, black ooze dripping from the end and falling on Tyrian's back. It burns holes in his clothing. One of the bubbles doesn't pop, however, and continues to grow. It begins to harden, then gain weight, its surface like rough glass. He turns his head to watch as the thing sharpens at the end and begins to glow a deep orange. Purple begins to drip from the end.

The pain is gone.

Salem lifts her hand, and thought Tyrian doesn't see the action, he moves with it. His knees shake from the shock of his experience, but his newly formed tail curls and twitches just like his old one would.

"I am pleased to see that you have accepted my gift, Tyrian," Salem coos.

Tyrian, still unable to speak, turns to face her. He catches his reflection in the now-still pool of sludge at his feet. He bend forward to inspect it.

His skin is paper white, just like hers, veins visible and pulsing a sickly purple-red. His eyes are still a bright gold, but the whites have turned ink black. From their corners, more sickening veins sprout, curling along his cheeks and temples. His teeth are sharpened to knife-like points, as are his newly formed claws. The unmistakable Deathstalker tail that curls over his head makes the shining surface of the pool turn yellow.

Tyrian smiles. This is his gift.

He begins to giggle. Oh what a beautiful gift it is.

He laughs. He is forgiven, praise the heavens.

He's cackling so hard that he feels like all of Remnant can hear him.

Tyrian turns to face Salem again and falls to his knees.

"Thank you my lady..."

**Author's Note:**

> http://atlesianic.carrd.co


End file.
